


The One Where They Went Camping

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Series: Exchange Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Camping, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Future Fic, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 21:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Derek, Scott, and Stiles' one year anniversary...seems like the perfect time to get away.</p><p>(I tagged Sciles separately because of the smut scene)</p><p> </p><p>  <i>My work for the McHaleinski Valentine's Day Exchange</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where They Went Camping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearesthale (Kaonashiecho)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaonashiecho/gifts).



“Remind me…how did I let you guys convince me to do this again?”

Scott grinned while Derek rolled his eyes, not bothering to even slow his pace where Scott did to take Stiles’ hand in his. Stiles knew who was getting kisses later.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” Scott asked, amusement clear on his face.

Nevermind. Neither of them were getting kisses.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles sniffed, lifting his chin to avoid eye contact and pretending that his lungs didn’t feel ready to burst.

“I remember something about the magic of fresh air,” Derek called back. “How the ‘great outdoors are the perfect place to forge a manly bond.’”

Derek’s sarcasm made it clear that the eyebrow waggle that had accompanied Stiles’ statement was very much _not_ appreciated. Whatever. Derek didn’t know real humor like Stiles did.

Stiles huffed indignantly though it didn’t really have much effect considering the way he was panting. Scott was practically carrying him up the incline they were climbing, pulling Stiles by the hand and telling him where to step so his boots didn’t slide. It was incredibly embarrassing but Stiles was pretty sure he was managing to keep up a brave face.

“Stiles it’s fine,” Scott laughed. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.

“You know, I really hate your sense of smell,” Stiles gasped, eyebrows furrowed in what he hoped looked like a frown rather than a pained grimace.

Scott shook his head, smiling all the way as he pulled Stiles up the last bit of hill. He promptly collapsed on his back, ignoring the large backpack that was digging into his spine in favor of spreading spread eagle and groaning obnoxiously. Derek was standing just at the corner of his vision, staring out over the valley that was now below them, arms akimbo and expression peaceful. He was barely even sweating. So unfair.

“Come on,” Scott said, holding a hand out to Stiles.

Stiles whined but took the offer, letting himself be hoisted to his feet where Scott pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“It’s only a little bit of a walk to the campsite. No more uphill,” Derek stated, turning back to them with a soft smile.

And well…Stiles wanted to be mad at him but how could he when Derek was looking at him with that expression?

Luckily, the campsite was a public one. People were already milling about the area when they arrived, some already having set up tents while others were still going through the process. A couple of girls around Scott and Stiles’ age waved jovially to them as they passed from where they were setting up a fold out table next to their tent and Stiles could swear he heard one of them sigh longingly at Scott’s bright smile. He couldn’t really blame her.

Setting up the tent was a test in patience—at least for Stiles and Scott. Derek tried to hide his amusement as they struggled to get all the pieces in order but eventually stepped forward to lend a hand when Stiles almost managed to skewer Scott with one of the tent poles. He ended up having to build the whole thing practically on his own. Scott and Stiles retreated to unpack their other supplies as they tended to their wounded pride.

“Did we bring the lighter fluid?” Stiles asked, frowning as he dug through his backpack.

“It’s in my bag!” Derek called. He grunted as he clipped the last part of the tent into place and stood, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“I can go get some firewood,” Scott suggested.

“I’ll help!”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ exclamation but gestured for them to go as he set about unpacking his own backpack. Scott and Stiles grinned at each other, practically tripping over themselves on their way to the woods. They headed farther into the trees than needed, making sure they were out of view from the rest of the site.

“Keep your ears on,” Stiles murmured before he was pulling Scott against him, their lips crashing a bit unintentionally.

It didn’t matter though because Scott was already kissing back with fervor, pushing Stiles against the large tree behind him.

“Been wanting to do this all day,” Stiles breathed as Scott moved to nip at his jaw.

“You know, Derek can still hear us,” Scott said, pulling away with a raised brow.

“Good.”

They smirked at each other before meeting again, mouths opening for each other in a slick slide of lips and tongue and just a bit of teeth. It was how their kisses always ended up—desperate, a little rough, and completely obscene (at least according to Derek). Scott’s warm hands found Stiles’ neck where he gently cradled Stiles’ jaw with his thumbs. In turn, Stiles gripped his hips with blunt fingers, making sure to pull him closer until they were practically grinding together.

“You know we can’t do this in the tent,” Stiles gasped, letting his head fall back against the tree to give Scott more space to suck a bruise into the column of his throat. “Everyone would hear us.”

“You telling me you wouldn’t like that?”

Stiles tried valiantly to hold back a moan at the gruff tone of Scott’s voice.

“I know you Stiles. You like the idea of getting caught,” Scott persisted and well…Stiles couldn’t argue that. “You love thinking about people hearing you fall apart. Of me and Derek _taking_ you apart.”

“Fuck, Scott,” Stiles whined, scrabbling at the t-shirt clinging to Scott’s back. He was steadily rubbing shamelessly against the thigh Scott had inserted between his legs. “When did you get so good at dirty talk?”

“I’ve been practicing with Derek,” Scott muttered. Stiles could feel the warmth of his cheek against his collarbone. He laughed loudly, the sound dissolving into a moan when Scott bit at his sensitive skin in retaliation.

“You want me to make you come?” Scott whispered earnestly.

“I…” Stiles panted heavily. “I don’t…fuck—yes but…”

On the one hand, this felt way too good to stop now but on the other: jizz covered underwear and the walk of shame. Both sides had compelling arguments but he found himself leaning quickly toward the former when Scott snaked a hand up under his shirt to brush his fingers lightly over his nipples.

“God yes,” he groaned.

Scott huffed a laugh but started to suck at his neck with intent, practically lifting Stiles off the ground with the way he was now grinding up against him. Stiles’ hard on was almost painful, the way it was trapped in his jeans, rubbing dangerously close to his zipper but he couldn’t even be bothered to care as he moaned long and low, tipping over the edge with a full body shudder. Even so, Scott didn’t bother to stop grinding, breathing hard against his shoulder as he jerked in uneven motions until he too was shaking to a stop.

They remained that way a moment, Scott’s weight pressing Stiles back into the tree, almost enough to be painful but Stiles was too blissed out to really notice the rough bark scratching at his back through his shirt. As soon as he shifted though, he felt the stickiness all in his boxers and groaned for a whole new reason.

“I knew that was a bad idea,” he huffed.

Scott snorted, pulling away enough that Stiles could drop the leg he hadn’t even realized that he’d hooked over Scott’s hips. The scent of spunk was so strong, even Stiles could smell it. It was enough to have his face lighting up red at the thought of walking back through the campsite so obviously and thoroughly debauched. Lips met his heated cheeks, pressing soft kisses there until Scott pulled back with a bitten lipped smile.

“I hate you,” Stiles grumbled, unable to stop himself from tangling his fingers with Scott’s.

“You started it,” Scott protested.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Despite his shaky legs, Stiles used the hand he was holding to drag Scott behind him back in the direction of the campsite. He didn’t even bother trying to tame his now messy hair or wrinkled up clothes because he knew it would be fairly obvious what they were getting up to behind the trees. Derek would surely know what happened.

When they stepped out into the large clearing, Derek was standing next to the tent, muscles tensed and single brow raised.

“Where’s the firewood?” he asked with pointed looks toward their groins.

“I have needs okay?” Stiles pouted.

Derek stepped up to him, pulling him forward to run his nose along Stiles’ neck, no doubt smelling Scott all over his skin.

“So do I,” he said, voice deep and prowling.

“Fuck, dude. I can’t get it up again so soon,” Stiles whined, going practically boneless in the hold Derek had on him now.

Scott laughed, stepping into the tent to change.

“Well, lucky for you I can keep it in my pants and wait until tonight,” Derek said, letting him go.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing that I want to sex you up all the time.” Stiles gave him a good long once over for emphasis. “Don’t front, Derek. I know you want this—” he gestured to himself “—all over you.”

Derek snorted. “Not when you say things like that.”

“What about ‘our manly bonding’?”

Derek didn’t even bother to give that a response. Instead, he grabbed Scott’s arm as he was exiting the tent, saying something about _actually_ getting firewood while Stiles got changed. Stiles didn’t really mind that they were leaving. He got the best view of watching them walk away.

When he stumbled out of the tent again, crawling his way out in a totally dignified way, one of the girls from earlier was stood waiting there, hands wrung in front of herself.

“Hi,” she said, jumping back when he caught his foot on the tent’s opening and pitched forward.

“Oh! Uh, hey there,” he answered, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Um…what’s up?”

“My name is Kasey!” She smiled at him in a way to rival Scott’s sunshine-y grin. “Me and my friends were wondering if you guys wanted to hang out tonight. We were going to cook up a bunch of burgers. And we have beer!”

Stiles lips twitched into his own smile. “Oh yeah. That sounds great. Um…we have some stuff we can probably contribute, too.” He spun in a circle, frowning at the backpacks sitting on the ground at his feet.

“No worries,” Kasey laughed. “We bought way too much. We were hoping to find some people to hang out with.”

“Well then definitely!”

She laughed again. “Okay, well I’ll give you guys some time to settle in. But come over later!”

“We’ll be there,” Stiles said, shooting her a couple of finger guns.

She shook her head at the display.

Scott and Derek weren’t gone long, returning in a much more presentable condition than Scott and Stiles had and with actual arms of firewood. They dropped them next to the tent, taking turns to greet Stiles. When Stiles told them about the girls’ plans tonight, they agreed to head over, even Derek—though he grumbled about them having their own food and alcohol.

“Yeah, but this is _free_ food and alcohol,” Stiles reasoned. “We can save our own stash for ourselves.”

The night turned out to be fun for everyone. Kasey, and her friends Monet, Daija, and Olivia as they were introduced, were nice and just sarcastic enough to keep up with Stiles’ rapid fire quips. Monet flirted more than once with Scott which was incredibly entertaining to watch as he got flustered and stupidly happy every time. Stiles always knew he loved attention but would never admit it.

By midnight, they were all experiencing a light buzz (well everyone except for the werewolves), sitting around the fire as they attempted to cook marshmallows to the perfect temperature. Derek had to help Scott and Stiles more than once, chuckling at them fondly.

“How do you get it so perfect, man?” Scott asked, staring at his burnt marshmallow with a sad frown.

Stiles held back his laughter best he could but it bubbled forth anyway. He gave Scott’s jaw a soft kiss in apology. Derek smiled. Monet leered. It sort of reminded Stiles of spending time with Erica.

Eventually, Derek and Scott had to guide Stiles back to the tent as he called back to the girls, vowing to hang out with them again the next night. They laughed as he was taken away, waving and cheering when Stiles took a big handful of Derek’s ass cheek, grinning up at him with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

It was difficult to maneuver them all into the tent comfortably but they finally decided the easiest way was to simply strip to their boxers instead of worrying about pajamas. Derek and Scott were warm enough to heat up the big sleeping bag that they’d created out of the three they brought with them, blocking out any crisp night air that might creep in and tease at Stiles’ skin. He was snuggled between them, sighing contentedly.

“So who’s first?” he asked sleepily.

Derek huffed a laugh, nosing at his ear. “How about you go to sleep? You’re about to pass out.”

“Nah. I can go a round,” Stiles argued, ignoring the yawn that interrupted him.

Scott breathed him in, pressing his nose into Stiles’ hair as he trailed his palm along Stiles’ stomach. “Go to sleep Stiles.”

“Fiiiine,” he groaned.

He shimmied some, getting into a more comfortable position before he let his eyes shut, muscles relax, and breathing even out. Before he could quite drift off, he spoke again.

“Happy Anniversary,” he whispered, so quietly he could barely be heard over the sounds of the scattered voices across the campsite.

Stiles could feel Derek’s soft smile against his neck, a warm feeling spreading from the point of contact down to his chest to settle there and sooth his heartbeat. Scott was still rubbing a thumb absentmindedly just under his bellybutton and his breathe tickled the nape of Stiles’ neck where he’d buried his face.

“Happy Anniversary,” Derek mumbled, kissing his neck.

“Yeah, ditto,” Scott said, practically asleep already.

And with the feeling of two werewolves wrapped around him, Stiles fell asleep in a matter of minutes, embracing the feeling of _right_ that always seemed to be there when he was around Scott and Derek.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at my [tumblr](http://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com/)


End file.
